


oh, my god, Jay, why are you so stupid

by milkteeth1



Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Blood, Canon Autistic Character, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Jay gets shot, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Shootings, Surgery, Tim deserved better, Trans Character, Vomiting, jay throws up in a plastic walmart bag like once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkteeth1/pseuds/milkteeth1
Summary: Jay gets shot, but Tim finds him.
Relationships: Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky
Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948756
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	oh, my god, Jay, why are you so stupid

**Author's Note:**

> ya'll ate the ASS out of my other Jam fic, so I made y'all another one. The next one will be angsty, but we always need more happy ending Jam.

_ Bang!  _

He stumbled back, shocked - Alex had shot at him, the gunshot ringing in his ears and making him deaf, making him shake with overloaded senses, pain exploding out of his side, and oh, God. He finally realized. 

Alex hadn’t shot  _ at  _ him, Alex had shot  _ him. _

He ran into another room, shutting the door and sitting next to it, gasping for air as he placed his hand over the wound. Shit, shit  _ shit!  _ He didn’t know if he would be able to get out of this, or even  _ survive  _ this, God he just wanted to be at home with Tim and be safe but now he was bleeding out on a concrete floor, blood staining the grey slate. 

He started sobbing. He wasn’t one to cry, never really was, even when he had meltdowns or a sensory overload, he just shook and bit his lip and kept his eyes closed. But now he was ugly crying; he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die  _ here _ . If he was going to die, he wanted to die in his mom’s arms, or Tim’s arms, his strong arms that would keep him safe no matter what. 

“Jay,” Alex’s voice said, from outside the door. “I’m sorry. This is what I had to do. I’m-”   
  
A scuffle, a shot and someone yelling in pain, silence. The door was thrust open, and oh there was Tim. Tim’s jaw was set as he lifted Jay up carefully, running down the hallway and up the stairs, using his back to open the door and run to his car.    
  
“Tim-” Jay muttered, but Tim shushed him, throwing the passenger door open and setting him in, slamming the door shut and getting in on his side, throwing the car in reverse and driving out of the parking lot.

“Tim,” Jay said quietly. “Tim, it’s OK-”   
  
“You just got fucking shot. God dammit, you’re so  _ stupid _ , this is why I wanted to go by myself! I knew something like this would happen, because you don’t know how to take care of yourself! So, unless you think you’re gonna pass out, don’t say anything.” Tim said, not  _ shouting, _ per say, but still loud enough to make Jay flinch in fear and embarrassment. 

He hissed as he moved his hand, the pain growing as he stopped applying pressure. Blood spilled out from behind his hand, dripping between his fingers, dark red and sticky. He grew dizzy, head spinning, stomach churning and oh Jesus he was gonna faint.    
  
“Jay?” Tim said, running through a stop sign and looking over at him, hand reaching over to grip at his free hand. “Jay, hey. Breathe. Don’t pass out on me, we’re almost there. Just a few more minutes, OK? Just a few more minutes,”   
  
“I’m gonna throw up,” Jay mumbled, and Tim squeezed his hand, cursing as he had to stop at a red light. He turned, fumbling with something in the back, and then a plastic Walmart bag was thrust under his mouth and he threw up the granola bar he had eaten this morning.

And then the car was moving forward,  _ way  _ over the speed limit, driving into the entrance of the hospital. It took a moment, and another bout of vomiting before they parked and Tim was pulling the keys out of the ignition, stuffing the keys into his pocket and running over, grabbing Jay up and not even bothering to shut the door (Jay did it with his foot) before running into the emergency room entrance, the light blinding him. He shut his eyes, digging himself into Tim’s chest. 

“Sir?” the receptionist asked, standing up as several of the waiting patients gasped in terror.   
  
“He’s been shot,” Tim said, out of breath. “He’s been shot in the side, I’m not sure the damage -”

“He’s gonna be OK, sir. Let me call someone, just keep him steady, alright? Is he unconscious?”   


“I don’t think so,” Tim responded, and then they were moving, moving through two large double doors as the receptionist ran down the hallway, shouting at someone. It smelled like sterilization and death, red hot blood and Tim’s cigarette’s. It was so  _ loud,  _ too. 

Jay whimpered slightly, hands going over his ears. The sounds of babies screaming and mother’s crying and people speaking being too loud for his sensitive ears. He wanted his headphones, but they were at Alex’s house. Fucking Alex.    
  
He was set down, hands all over him as someone pressed on the wound, and he cried out, trying to get away. People were talking to him, trying to comfort him, but the pain was too much and he couldn’t make out what they were saying.    
  
Someone reached out for him, but he moved away from them, shivering. “Stop! Stop,  _ no _ , I don’t want to die!” 

Again, someone was trying to speak, but it was too loud and too painful and the edges of his vision grew dark, darker and darker, until he was falling onto the bed and then nothing was seen. Nothing was heard. Just blissful, endless sleep. 

He woke  up with a jolt.    
  
He had had a nightmare, and  _ terrible  _ nightmare, about how he was shot and almost died and Tim saved him. He knew it was slightly out of place, being shot by Alex. Alex didn’t want to hurt him, he had promised. But Alex was also a good liar.  He realized that he was in a hospital room. 

Oh, no, his nightmare had come  _ true _ . 

“Hey, Jay,” Tim said, coming into his vision as he sat on his bed, washed up (new shirt, no blood), but looking tired. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” he saw, laying back on the pillows. Now that he was awake.. “And in pain. Didn’t I get shot?”   
  
He sat up, now scared. He went to open his mouth, but Tim placed his finger on his lips, smiling. 

“You’re fine. After you passed out, they rushed you to surgery and got the bullet out. You’re stuck on liquids for a week, though, so I hope you like broth, because you’re staying with me,” Tim said, then looked down. “But I called the cops on Alex. I can’t let this keep going on. He can tell people about the infection in prison,”   
  
Jay could’ve cried. He shimmied forward, grabbing Tim and hugging him as tight as he could. Tim adjusted, pulling Jay into a huge hug, resting his forehead on his shoulder, sighing happily.    
  
“You could’ve died. I would’ve lost you,” Tim said quietly. “I can’t lose anyone else.”   
  
“Brian?”   
  
“Brian moved. He called me, told me over voicemail. I have it, if you want me to prove it,”   
  
“I wanna hear it,”   
  
Tim didn’t move his head, pulling out his phone and pressing a few buttons before a sound started to play, Brian’s voice erupting out of the speaker. 

“ _ Hey, buddy. I uh. I’m sorry to tell you this over the phone, but I moved away. Far,  _ far _ , away. I won’t tell you where, over the phone. I’ll send you a letter.”  _ he laughed slightly. “ _ Who sends letters anymore? I’ll just send a text or something. Anyway, yeah. Sorry, Tim. I love you lots, tell Jay I said hi. I’ll visit for Christmas, but for now I just want to get away. Please stay safe. Bye,” _ _   
_ _   
_ The phone clicked. Tim set the phone down, fiddling with it. “Well, Brian says hi,”   
  
Jay laughed, holding Tim tightly as he sniffed, looking like he was holding in tears. He pulled him down onto the bed, the T.V turned on to some dumb cartoon he’d never seen before, but Tim seemed to be interested enough that he kept it on. He made himself comfortable, grabbing the others hand and holding it close. 

Jay left the hospital the next day, Tim driving them to his house and setting the little belongings he had into the spare bedroom, letting him pick the linens and blankets for the bed. But Jay always ended up sleeping next to Tim. Either laying on him, cuddling or just in the vicinity, Jay slept in the same bed as him. 

Not long after, they got together officially (fucking  _ finally _ ). They lived happily in Tim’s home, with Tim keeping his job and Jay staying home, recovering from the PTSD of it all. They were still broken, needed fixing, but they could fix each other. 

(and then, a year later, they got married and moved out to the country, living on large, wooded property, adopting a large, Alaskan malamute named Bee.)

**Author's Note:**

> may post a second chapter of more fluff 😳


End file.
